Dirty Lovely Broken

by Emmy Chandler

  Dirty Lovely Broken

  Twisted Kingdom Book 1

  Emmy Chandler

  Emerson Ink

  Contents

  About this book…

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Pronunciation guide

  A note from Emmy

  Also by Emmy Chandler

  About Emmy

  Copyright © 2019 by Emmy Chandler

  Editing by Daisy Copy Editing.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.EmmyChandler.com

  Created with Vellum

  About this book…

  Dirty Lovely Broken is book one in the Twisted Kingdom trilogy, a dark sci-fi reverse harem fairytale. I know that’s a mouthful, but as you’ll see as you read, it’s accurate.

  Note: Dark romance is a subgenre characterized by elements like dubious consent, power exchange, spanking, and other such “darker” content that makes for a grittier read. Dirty Lovely Broken contains all of those things, though it’s light on the spanking.

  Also please note: The Twisted Kingdom books contain a single story that arcs across three full-length novels. It’s a dark and winding road—a very messy journey—but I promise there will be an HEA at the end.

  I plan to release book two about a month after Dirty Lovely Broken.

  1

  Maari

  “For far too long, the planet Syrus has been divided by this brutal civil war.” The Chancellor’s words echoed across the great hall at Saintton with far more power and authority than his physical presence would’ve been able to claim. Like most council members, the Chancellor was not a large man, but his seven-foot-tall holographic projection did nothing to betray that fact. “Other, larger planets might be able to afford such discord, but our security in the galactic community has always depended upon our unity and willingness to combine forces. We’ve wasted untold resources and countless lives fighting amongst ourselves over the past five years, when those efforts and assets would have been far better spent in defense of the entire planet against rivals eager to seize the resources we’ve squandered. The council is in agreement that this war must end. And it must end today.”

  Representatives from Stead Delayne and Stead Camden stood facing each other from opposite sides of the long room, bearing the Chancellor’s rebuke in silence, privately grateful that the war was to be ended by a third party. Because, as Maari Delayne well knew, neither side could afford the loss of face that would come with a concession.

  Left to their own devices, her brothers and the Camden princes would raze the entire planet before either side would admit defeat.

  Maari stared across the great hall at the representatives from the rival stead, who stood with their hands formally clasped at their backs. The Camden men were tall, all three of them, with piercing gazes and bulging arms. Jude, the oldest, wore a crisp uniform—as the king of Stead Camden, he was also the formal leader of its military. He’d been glaring daggers at her brother Gareth, the king of Stead Delayne and his sworn enemy, since the moment they entered the room.

  Orlann, the middle brother, was tall and somewhat wiry. His gaze remained fixed upon the holographic figures presiding at the end of the great hall, clearly angry that he’d been temporarily excluded from the council’s deliberations, because of his personal stake in the proceedings.

  Malac, the youngest, also wore a military uniform. And he was…beautiful. He had a different look than his brothers—pale green eyes and skin half a shade lighter. Maari could tell at a glance that this was the infamous bastard, promoted to the title of Defense Commander—the position that actually ran the military—though he could not bear the Camden name, when he’d distinguished himself in battle following his father’s assassination.

  His bright green eyes had been focused on Maari since the instant he saw her.

  “It is the decision of this council that in order to heal the wounds inflicted by five long years of war—of countless lives lost and communities destroyed—atonement must be made, in order to establish and secure peace throughout the planet.” At the head of the long room, the Chancellor’s image flickered for a second, the only visible evidence—other than his preposterous height—that he wasn’t actually in the great hall. That the council, in fact, was announcing its ruling from half a world away, at Valemont, the politically neutral capitol of the planet Syrus.

  At the other end of the long chamber, an armed delegation from Stead Aaron stood in front of the tall double doors, ensuring that none might leave until the ruling had been announced. Until the judgement had been carried out.

  Until the war had officially ended.

  The Chancellor cleared his throat, and Maari turned back to the hologram, noting an empty chair on either end of the council’s ranks. The planetary council had thirteen members: one representing each of the twelve steads—which were each ruled by one of the twelve First Families—in addition to the neutral Chancellor. But only eleven of the members were in attendance to oversee the peace accord. Her brother Jaarod had been excluded from the proceedings along with Orlann Camden, for the same reason.

  “Though each side has inflicted grievous wounds on the other,” the Chancellor continued. “It is our judgement that because the first strike came from Stead Delayne, they must be called upon to make amends.”

  Maari’s pulse jumped. She risked a glance to the left, at her brothers, and she found Gareth standing at attention in his uniform, the tightening of his jaw the only sign that he shared her indignation. Between them, Jaarod, the second-born, sucked in a shallow, shocked breath, stunned by the betrayal from his fellow council members.

  For once, Gareth the warrior king and Jaarod the scholarly councilor seemed to agree, not just with each other, but with Maari.

  This is utter bullshit.

  Maari gaped at the Chancellor. Stead Delayne hadn’t started the war; they’d simply retaliated against Stead Camden’s initial assault. True, Gareth’s blow had been more visible. It was intended to be, to send a message. But it was not the first strike.

  “The council has decided that to atone for the murder of Cedric, the late King of Stead Camden, Stead Delayne will forfeit the life of the man who struck the fatal blow.”

  No. Tendrils of horror slithered around Maari’s chest, ruthlessly squeezing the air from her lungs. Her gaze stole toward Gareth again, but he betrayed no reaction to the news of his own impending execution.

  “In addition, to discourage future such aggressions and to establish a blood bond between the two hostile kingdoms, Stead Delayne will grant one of its virgin daughters to be bred into the Camden family, by the surviving sons of Cedric Camden.”

  Gods below.

  Stunned, Maari turned to steal a glance at her handmaidens, lined up against the stone wall at her back. They were the only women who’d accompanied the Delayne delegation, and all three looked terrified. Maari gave them a subtle shake of her head. She would not hand over a single one of them to be ravaged by the Camden brutes, no matter what the Chancellor said.

  And anyway, she was fairly certain none of h
er ladies were yet virgins.

  Across the long room, the delegation from Stead Camden seemed to exhale, almost as one. Their relief was palpable, but a second later, it was overshadowed by a much more visceral reaction.

  Triumph. Vindication. Righteous anger.

  Maari and her brothers could only watch as the sons of Cedric Camden exchanged victorious smiles.

  Behind them, the rest of their equally jubilant delegation contained only soldiers. They’d brought no women. No sisters or wives. No female servants.

  “And if we refuse?” Gareth’s voice rang out across the large chamber, as powerful as his thick arms and chest. Maari exhaled slowly, grasping for calm. Her brother—The Beast of Bannon—would never let such an unfair ruling stand. A truce with Stead Camden wasn’t worth such a cost.

  “If you refuse, Stead Delayne will face the fury of eleven armies united against it,” the Chancellor declared. “They will march over Bannon and leave it in ruins, granting mercy to no man, woman, or child.”

  His proclamation sucked the air from Maari’s lungs, leaving her gasping. A united front, marching against Stead Delayne? Why? How? No more than two Steads had ever marched in solidarity against another before. It was impossible to get more than two to agree on any one thing, so how were they now all united against Stead Delayne? United behind Stead Camden?

  Jaarod’s face registered the same shock Maari felt. This can’t be real.

  “We are fed up with war,” the Chancellor continued. “We are weary of death and division. The desire for peace has united us as never before, and we are willing to wipe the aggressors off the map to achieve that goal. But that is not our desire. We offer peace. Accept the council’s terms, and your people will live. Your stead will thrive—under new leadership.”

  No.

  Maari turned to Gareth, silently begging him to look at her. To give her some hint of how he intended to respond. Of how he planned to change their minds. Stead Delayne couldn’t stand against eleven armies united against it. They couldn’t let every man, woman, and child in Bannon die. But neither could they abide such an insult. Such a corrupt pronouncement, obviously aimed at crippling their stead.

  “We accept your terms.” Gareth’s voice carried loud and clear.

  “No!” Maari shouted, and surprised faces turned her way from all over the great hall.

  The Chancellor scowled down at her. “Princess Maari Delayne, do you wish to address the council?”

  “No, she does not,” Gareth said before she could open her mouth. “If it pleases the council, I’d like a moment with my brother and sister, before we proceed?”

  “Granted,” the Chancellor said with a magnanimous nod.

  Gareth took his sister’s arm and tugged her into a huddle with both of her brothers.

  “This is madness,” Jaarod whispered. “You can’t seriously be thinking of concession.”

  “We have no other choice,” Gareth said.

  “I won’t watch them execute you!” Maari insisted. “We are not in the wrong here. We should fight.”

  “Stop it,” Gareth whispered fiercely. “There is no way to fight this, and if we try, they will wipe us from the face of the planet. You heard them. Jaarod, do you have any reason to doubt the council’s sincerity?”

  “No, but—”

  “Did you hear anything about this in advance?” Maari demanded. “Any whispers from your contacts in Valemont?”

  “No!” Jaarod’s eyes narrowed as his gaze traveled over her shoulder, to where their rival delegation stood, watching impatiently. “I’ve been cut off, just like Orlann Camden. We were both allowed to testify, then we were completely out of communication with the capitol for the past month of deliberation, during the ceasefire.”

  “You have to appoint a new representative to sit on the council,” Gareth whispered.

  Jaarod frowned at him. “No, I—”

  “You will inherit the crown and lead Bannon’s military. You cannot sit on the council.”

  “I can’t—” He shook his head, dark curls bobbing. “I’m no warrior.”

  “Depend upon Ryder,” Gareth said with a glance back at his second in command, who stood apart from the handmaids. “He’ll teach you what you need to know.”

  “You can’t be serious. This is—”

  “We don’t have time for you to come to terms with this,” Gareth snapped as he unbuckled his belt. “Stand tall and accept your responsibility. Bannon is yours. You run Stead Delayne now.” He shoved his belt at Jaarod, ceremonial sword clanging, nanopistol digging into his younger brother’s hip through the soft material of his councilor’s robe.

  Jaarod took the belt, but rather than donning it, he only stared at it, seeming surprised by its weight.

  Maari wanted to take it from him. She wanted to fasten it around her own waist and relieve him of the burden. She wanted to send him back to the council and to his books. To his studies of ancient philosophy, for what little good they were, in the modern world.

  But she was neither a man nor the second-born. Bannon could not pass to her.

  “Take care of Clare and my children,” Gareth said, gaze locked with Jaarod’s. “Let Maari help you select a wife. Someone high born from one of the other steads—we’ll need new allies. Then get her pregnant as soon as you can. Stead Delayne must have heirs.”

  Jaarod nodded, stunned. And finally Gareth stepped out of their huddle and into the center of the room.

  “We’re ready to proceed,” he announced, head held high.

  The tall doors at the end of the room opened, and one of their hosts, a member of Stead Aaron, stepped inside carrying a thick metal collar. He walked half the length of the room to present it to Jude Camden.

  Maari’s stomach began to pitch. She could not watch.

  Jude Camden stepped forward to take the collar. “On behalf of Stead Camden, I accept the life of King Gareth Delayne. And as the final part of our recompense, my brothers and I will accept his sister, Princess Maari Delayne as our concubine and breeder.”

  “No!” Gareth roared, glancing back at his sister.

  But Maari didn’t understand what she was hearing. Why had her name fallen from Jude Camden’s lips?

  “That was not part of the judgment,” Gareth shouted. “The council offered you a ‘daughter’ of Stead Delayne as a euphemistic formality. You may have one of our women, but not Maari. She is of our royal bloodline, unbroken since the First Families originally settled on this planet. A princess cannot be taken as a concubine. Even suggesting such a thing is an insult.”

  Jude Camden’s pale blue-eyed gaze landed on her, and it was ice-cold. “Insult or not, we will have Gareth Delayne’s life and his royal sister’s body in atonement, or we will reject this peace accord. Stead Camden stands prepared to fight, united with the other ten esteemed steads of Syrus.”

  “We want no more fighting,” the Chancellor declared. “But as she is royalty, this choice belongs to Princess Maari Delayne, just as her brother’s choice belonged to him alone. Princess, will you give yourself to King Jude Camden and to his brothers, Orlann and Malac, in order to seal the peace accord? Or will you condemn your people to death, every man, woman, and child?”

  Blood drained from Maari’s face, leaving her numb. “Gareth…” she whispered, and he shouldn’t have been able to hear her, as soft as her voice was. Yet he turned and took his sister by both arms, staring straight down into her eyes. “Don’t make me do this,” she begged him. “Please.”

  “The palace at Loborough is stunning,” he whispered. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You will be pampered and indulged.”

  “Do not speak to me of palaces. ‘Pampered and indulged!’” she snapped softly at her brother. At the man who’d been her confidant, her authority, and her defender since their father had died. “I will be bred. As a prisoner and a whore. As a casualty of a war I bear no blame for.”

  “You will be alive,” he insisted. “Allowed to raise your children in luxury, k
nowing that you saved more than a million lives.” His gaze hardened. “But if you will not consent, you damn us all. Jaarod. Clare. Our younger sisters. My children…”

  “Oh, gods.” Their sweet little faces swam behind her eyes. Tiny phantom hands clutched at her fingers and tugged on her skirts.

  Finally Maari nodded, clenching her jaw to hold back tears.

  “Thank you.” Gareth took her arms, pressing his forehead against hers for one precious moment. “My children owe you their lives.” Then he turned, and his answer rang across the chamber. “Stead Delayne accepts.”

  A sob tore free from Maari’s throat. Her handmaids gathered around her, sobbing as they clutched at her arms. As they stroked her hair and wiped her tears, desperate to console their mistress.

  The Chancellor nodded at the king of Loborough. “You may proceed.”

  Jude Camden marched forward, heedless of her sobs. Gareth stood tall, his lips sealed, his expression guarded while his enemy clasped the metal collar around his neck. Then Jude stepped back and accepted a small device from the man who had brought him the collar.

  Jaarod shoved one of his sister’s handmaids away and clutched at Maari’s hand.

  Jude Camden pressed the button.

  A soft buzz echoed through the room, and Gareth’s head fell at his enemy’s feet. Staring sightlessly up at the cavernous ceiling. An instant later, his body collapsed to the floor.

  A shriek ripped free from Maari’s throat, and she could not make it stop. Jude picked up Gareth’s head by the hair and held it aloft in triumph, her brother’s neck cauterized by the same laser that had severed his head from his body. Jude waved his own brothers forward, and they marched across the marble floor toward her.